


Literary Aspirations

by misura



Category: Samurai Champloo
Genre: Denial, Explicit Language, Italics, M/M, Mild Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:28:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23683147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: Jin possesses the soul of a poet. Mugen only possesses a dirty mouth.
Relationships: Jin/Mugen (Samurai Champloo)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 54
Collections: Unsent Letters 2020





	Literary Aspirations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LuciferxDamien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuciferxDamien/gifts).



Jin sometimes felt that if only he had been able to afford the costs of paper and ink, he might have made a Significant Contribution to literature - he realized that he might be flattering himself somewhat, but having met as many people as he had, it did not seem unreasonable to conclude himself in possession of more grace, style and elegance than most (possibly even all) other people in this country. Thus, it seemed logical enough that, if he were to turn his hand to literature, future generations would thank him for it and cherish his words in a way that his present company could not be expected to do. (He did not blame Fuu.)

Sometimes, he would sit down and view a particularly nice bit of forest, or a tranquil stream, and he would think to himself that if he'd been a poet, he might have composed a haiku on the spot that people would quote for years.

Of course, he was as much of a poet as any man could be, but only in his soul. Fuu wouldn't be able to appreciate his art, and Mugen -

Mugen would make fun, or scoff, or say something crude and offensive, and then Jin would have to kill him, which would be messy and terribly inconvenient for everyone, and so Jin kept his poetry to himself, suffering in silence.

Suffering for one's art was, of course, somewhat of a tradition, even if Jin felt sure that there had also been literary masterworks composed by people unburdened with money trouble and uncouth companions.

"You know how long it's been since I had sex?" Mugen asked of no one in particular.

Jin ignored him. It never made the problem of Mugen actually go away, but since Jin had more or less promised to fight him to the death one day, that might be considered convenient, in a rather inconvenient way.

"Six days!" Mugen made it somehow sound like an accusation, as if his dry spell were Jin's doing somehow; as if it was in any way Jin's responsbility that Mugen got to have enough sex to satisfy him, which it most definitely wasn't, nor would Jin want it to be, because Mugen was probably insatiable and demanding and pushy and making him beg for it would be a lot of fun as well as extremely satisfying.

Not, of course, that Jin was even remotely interested in having sex with someone like Mugen.

They ended up getting ambushed by some bandits, and Jin held back a bit, letting Mugen kill most of them until he realized what he was doing and stopped doing it, because even if he'd been interested in doing something nice for Mugen, that was no reason to deny himself anything. The best pleasures in life were shared, like a good meal.

Still, as he sat awake that night, he found himself wondering if maybe Mugen had literary aspirations as well. If maybe Mugen was lying awake right now, one hand stuffed down his trousers and the other one holding an imaginary ink brush as he wrote about his day.

 _We didn't have any money for lunch today,_ again _, but Jin let me kill some bandits that were actually his to kill, because he digs my ass or wants to stuff his cock down my throat or something, which is never going to happen because I am an idiot._

_It didn't rain, my feet hurt, and I wish I was having sex with a woman right now, or better yet: ~~Jin~~ two women._

(Absolutely terrible, naturally; you wouldn't catch _Mugen_ writing Literature, but it had a certain rough charm, Jin supposed, rather like Mugen himself, and anyway, it wasn't as if Mugen had actually written the lines.)

Once he'd started though, it seemed he wasn't able to stop. Mugen's literary voice was hard to shut up, much like Mugen himself. Annoying, loud - they'd never be able to have sex without Fuu noticing, which would be awkward. Jin supposed he might gag Mugen but (a) Mugen would never agree and (b) Jin didn't actually want to have sex with Mugen, gagged or otherwise, but if he had, he'd have wanted Mugen to be loud, to hear everything that came out of Mugen's mouth as Jin fucked him harder and better than Mugen'd ever been fucked in his life. (Possibly, that wasn't a high bar to clear. Jin wasn't sure.)

 _It rained and that sucked. We didn't have any money to buy food, which also sucked. Jin -_ and here Jin's imagination stuttered briefly, because what part, if any, would Mugen appoint Jin in the story of his life? Jin could think of a few options, yet none of them felt quite right, such as:

 _Jin is still a better swordsman than I am_ (unlikely if possibly true)

 _Jin still isn't as good a swordsman as I am_ (offensive and untrue)

 _Jin hasn't sucked my cock yet_ (true enough, but would this actually prey on Mugen's mind? Also, repeating the verb 'suck' with another meaning displeased Jin; it was inelegant, so Mugen seemed unlikely to mind and yet)

 _Jin hasn't let me suck his cock yet_ (as if Jin could or would stop Mugen if he put his mind to it; if nothing had happened between them of a sexual nature, surely that was to blame on Mugen, and anyway, it wasn't as if Jin particularly wanted Mugen to suck his cock)

In the end, he settled on: _It rained and that sucked. We didn't have any money to buy food, which also sucked. Jin and I didn't get to fight anyone, not even each other. It was not a very good day,_ which wasn't Literature, to be sure, but there was a rough honesty to it that did not entirely lack appeal to anyone not actually present.

If Jin were to make a diary entry for himself, he liked to believe it would be different. _Walking through the forest, I was struck by the beauty of -_ something something. All poets loved nature, after all, and Jin was sure that if he were so minded, he would find many things to admire about it.

Granted, the truth would be more like, _Trudging through the forest, my clothes still wet from the rain, I felt miserable and hungry and really pissed off by the fact that Mugen seems as grumpy as usual, but not more_

Truth and Literature did not mix particularly well, of course. Jin hadn't read enough erotica to be an expert (he considered himself more of a doer than a talk-about-it-er) but he entertained himself by trying to compose a little something in his head, to distract himself from being cold, wet and hungry.

 _"M-m-more!" Mugen begged._ (starting a bit in the middle of things, and getting there would be half the fun, possibly even all of it, considering Mugen)

 _"“Enough!” Jin panted, his throat raw, his skin itching as he held Mugen down_ (promising, surely; it wasn't as if opportunities to find Mugen annoying were a rarity)

 _"Hey, Four-Eyes, want to fuck?" Mugen said_ (ideal if Jin had actually been interested, leaving the power to decide entirely in his hands, unless of course Mugen was trying to trick him into revealing a weakness, which he might do)

In the end, it turned out to be a bit of a contest between something like: _The sensation of having Mugen under him was intoxicating, like a cup of hot, strong sake. Mugen struggled a bit, but Jin found it easy to keep him restrained, so that Mugen's movements only intensified the physical contact between them. He leaned in closer to flick his tongue against Mugen's ear, whispering about all the things he wanted to do to Mugen, and how much Mugen would enjoy having them done to him, enough that he'd be begging for more and perhaps even say 'thank you' by the end of it._

_Not that Jin planned on leaving Mugen capable of speaking - or walking, for that matter. He planned on taking his time about it, though, on getting Mugen nice and loose before Jin would, after some impressive begging on Mugen's part, allow him to fuck himself on Jin's cock, with Jin holding his hands down to make sure Mugen would come solely from being fucked, and to ensure Mugen would know it._

versus something like:

_Jin knew himself capable of breaking Mugen's hold on him, but the truth was that he didn't want to, particularly once Mugen started describing in crude and explicit detail what he'd like to do to Jin, what he'd been fantasizing about doing to Jin almost from the first time they'd met._

_He was tempted to point out that only Mugen himself was to blame for how long it had taken them to get here, but instead wisely chose to keep his mouth shut, allowing himself to live in and enjoy the moment, the sensation of Mugen's cock stretching him, invading him, until he didn't think he could take any more and then Mugen_ pushed _and proved him wrong, almost making him come right then and there._

They both felt more like something Mugen might write, though - it was all about sex and physical pleasure, and nothing to do with feelings or higher emotions, which Jin wouldn't say he experienced when thinking about Mugen, so that was sort of accurate, he supposed. Still, he couldn't see either version fitting in the sort of work he envisioned himself bestowing on future generations.

In spite of all of Jin's literary fantasies, the reality of Mugen didn't noticeably change.

"You know how long it's been since I've had a decent meal?" Mugen asked of no one in particular.

( _Jin watched as Mugen sucked on his fingers, feeling the warm, wet heat of Mugen's mouth and the way his cock hardened as he imagined -_ but that was too much, even for Jin. One degree of imagining was enough; he wasn't about to fantasize about himself fantasizing, that would be taking it too far.)

Fuu's stomach growled.

Jin's stomach rumbled in sympathy.

Mugen glowered at both of them, then sighed. "This sucks."

Mugen really did have a bit of an oral fixation, Jin reflected; small wonder Jin kept thinking about Mugen's mouth.

Another day, another miserable trudge through a forest, followed, at last, by a fight that served as a wonderful distraction from thinking about Mugen's mouth. It should also serve to help cheer up Mugen, and with luck they'd end up with some money to show for their trouble: wins all around.

Jin hadn't expected to discover a bottle of ink on one of the dead men. It was only half-full and likely to be of poor quality. Still, it was free, so he might as well take it.

"What're you going to do with that stuff?" Mugen asked, half-scoffing already.

Jin had enjoyed the fight, but he still felt energetic enough to take on Mugen. He didn't think either of them would kill the other in this moment, so the risk of unpleasantness was negligible.

"I might write something," he said, and Mugen went to a whole scoff.

"Like what? A grocery list?"

( _Today, we went to the market and bought all the ingredients for a tasty, healthy and entirely satisfying meal,_ \- even less likely than the sex stuff, and boring besides, and it wasn't about the glory of Nature, so it wasn't Literature either).

"Whatever," Mugen said, before Jin could come up with an answer he actually wanted to say out loud.

Assume Mugen knew how to write and was interested, and inclined to send notes rather than come right out and speak his mind; he'd probably write something like:

_Sex tonight? y/n_

or

 _You want to fuck, come see me after dinner._ (not that dinner was anything other than a rare treat and luxury)

neither of which was romantic, or something future historians would sigh and gush over, or future authors analyze and despair of surpassing.

Whereas Jin would rather write something like, _As the setting sun enflames the sky, so too does your presence enflame my senses_ (ugh, that was horrible, like Mugen had written it), or _No matter how much rain falls tonight, the warmth of your love will keep me warm and dry_ (better, apart from that warmth thing, even if it was completely unrealistic) or _I gagged you while we had sex because I didn't want to wake up Fuu, but your eyes spoke to me as loudly as your moans_ (that would be just like Mugen, really: undoing all of Jin's efforts to keep them both quiet by being his loud self).

Fuu went grocery shopping - without any list, it went without saying, leaving Jin with Mugen, or Mugen with Jin, depending on how one wanted to look at it.

"So," Mugen said, like Jin should be able to fill in the rest of that sentence. (Well. All of the sentence, really.)

"Indeed," Jin said, because two could play that game.

Mugen scowled. "Way I look at it, while the chick's gone, we can fight, or we can fuck. Which is it to be?"

For Mugen, this was some high rhetoric, Jin decided. Practically eloquent. It also inconveniently left everything to Jin.

Then again, that didn't need to be a disadvantage. "Why not both?"

Mugen grinned. It made him look lean and mean and like someone in desperate need of someone who would grab his hair and make him use his mouth for something actually useful and possibly pleasurable. (Jin bet he'd bite, unless properly motivated to behave.)

"Both it is, then. But remember, you asked for it."


End file.
